Page:The Dial (Volume 74).djvu/87

Our learned men have urged
That when and where 'twas forged
A marvellous accomplishment
In painting or in pottery went
From father unto son,
And through the centuries ran
And seemed unchanging like the sword.
Soul's beauty being most adored,
Men and their business took
The soul's unchanging look,
For the most rich inheritor,
Knowing that none who pass Heaven's door
Have loved inferior art,
Had such an aching heart
That he, although a country's talk
For silken clothes and stately walk,
Had waking wits; it seemed
Juno's peacock screamed.

Having inherited a vigorous mind
From my old fathers I must nourish dreams
To leave a woman and a man behind
As vigorous of mind, and yet it seems
Life scarce can cast a fragrance on the wind,
Scarce spread a glory to the morning beams,
When the torn petals strew the garden plot;
And there’s but common greenness after that.

And what if my descendants lose the flower
Through natural declension of the soul,
Through too much business with the passing hour,
Through too much play, or marriage with a fool,
And find a comfort in it? May this tower
Become a roofless ruin that the owl
May build in the cracked masonry and cry
Her desolation to the desolate sky.